


Just Practicing

by theorchardofbones



Series: FFXV Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Gender or Sex Swap, Kink Meme, M/M, Noct's sex is changed due to magical means but his gender remains the same, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, this is not a depiction of a trans character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchardofbones/pseuds/theorchardofbones
Summary: Prompto wakes up after a night out in Lestallum with a girl in bed beside him andno ideaof how she got there.Turns out it's Noct, and he's the victim of some magical switcheroo of the most epic variety.It's not all laughs, though — especially when Noct presents a little dilemma, and Prompto's the only one who can help...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for the following [kink meme prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=8988555#cmt8988555):
> 
> _Prompto/Noct — Noct gets turned into a girl... and offers to let Prompto practice eating pussy on him. So he’ll be good at it just in case he gets a shot with Cindy._

‘Rise and shine, campers. We got an early start if we wanna get to the market.’

With a sound of sleepy protest, Prompto only burrows further under the covers to hide from Gladio’s voice. It had been _Gladio’s_ idea to hit one of the local bars last night — ‘We all need a little R and R,’ he’d said — but really, Prompto should’ve known better. He and Noct had wound up staying out _long_ after the others had headed back, and flopped into bed sometime just before dawn.

‘Five more minutes,’ he groans, muffled under the blanket. It’s hot under there, courtesy of Lestallum’s muggy climate, but it’s better than facing the day.

‘Ho-ly _shit.’_

‘Oh, my.’

Curiosity gets the better of Prompto. He pokes his head out from under the covers and finds the others staring at the bed he’s sharing with Noct.

‘What?’ he says with a pout. ‘What’s wrong?’

Ignis wears the most _infuriating_ smirk.

‘You should have let us know we were in the company of the fairer sex, Prompto,’ he says. ‘I might have ordered room service.’

Prompto stares at him blankly. Either he’s still drunk, somehow, or Ignis isn’t making any sense.

Gladio snorts.

‘How much did you drink last night, Blondie?’

He gestures to the bed, and Prompto feels the sensation of _something’s very wrong_ prickling at the nape of his neck. Did he and Noct—? Were they—?

Gingerly, he turns over onto his other side, and finds himself lying beside a total stranger.

‘What the _hell.’_

She’s pretty, from what little he can see of her; her slender arm is thrown over her face in her sleep to shield against the light. There’s a flash of dark hair just visible, all mussed up from sleep.

As far as Prompto can tell, where her limbs are threaded through the covers, she’s only wearing a black t-shirt which is a little too big for her — one of Noct’s, he thinks. He prays to the Astrals that she’s wearing panties under there.

‘Way to go,’ Gladio says. ‘Surprised you two didn’t wake us up.’

‘But I didn’t—’ Prompto blurts. ‘I wasn’t—’

When he turns to plead his case, he finds Gladio and Ignis staring smugly at him.

‘Perhaps we should let Prompto, ah, say his goodbyes,’ Ignis says. ‘It would be rude to leave without a word.’

Prompto watches in dismay as they turn for the door. Damn them and their early bird ways — they’re already dressed and ready to go. In spite of his stuttering attempts to get them to stay, they make a speedy exit.

Which leaves Prompto with. _Her._

He runs over the night again frantically. He remembers when Ignis had started to pointedly check his watch, as if to signal that it was time to go; Gladio had made the call shortly after. Noct had complained that he barely had a buzz on, so they’d managed to convince Ignis to let them stay back and head to the hotel later.

One drink had turned into… a _lot._ But Prompto would remember bringing some chick home, right? And where is Noct now, anyway?

For all Ignis’s talk of saying goodbye, Prompto’s in _no_ mood to stick around until his companion wakes up. With an exhibition of stealth that would make Ignis proud, he slips out of bed and moves on tiptoe away from Sleeping Beauty. He’d forego the shower just to get the hell out of dodge more quickly, but one whiff under his arms tells him that’d be a bad idea for everybody in this heat.

He showers as quickly as he dares, but of course because he’s rushing, he practically punches the shower gel off of the shelf in his haste. He watches as the bottle moves, in slow motion, through the air. When it hits the porcelain floor of the shower, the sound it makes is _explosive._

He prays that it didn’t wake the girl up, but he knows he’s not that lucky.

He’s rinsing off when a very loud, piercing shriek rings out from the other room, and instinct kicks in.

He shoves the shower door open and springs out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom, his gun already appearing in his hand. With two long strides he gets to the door and flings it open; bounding into the bedroom, he turns toward the girl, raising his gun to fend off her attacker—

And finds her sitting up in bed, her hands cupping her boobs through her t-shirt, a look of abject terror on her face. There’s no attacker in sight. With a sigh of relief, Prompto casts his gun away, and realises belatedly that he’s very naked and very wet.

Gladio’s pillow is the closest thing to hand. Hurriedly, he picks it up and covers himself with it.

‘Are you…’ he says meekly. ‘Is everything cool?’

‘Prompto,’ the girl says. There’s something familiar about the way she looks at him, her blue eyes going wide. ‘What the _fuck_ is going on?’

Prompto could ask her the same thing. He knows next to nothing about what happened last night, but she knows his name — which means she’s less in the dark than he is.

‘Uh, I’m not too sure,’ he replies sheepishly. ‘I guess we, uh… We must’ve…’

The girl throws her hands up in exasperation, then points at herself.

 _‘Prompto,’_ she says. ‘I’ve got _boobs.’_

In spite of himself, Prompto gives a nervous giggle. Yeah, she does — he can see the way the tee she’s wearing hugs around them, her nipples poking through. _Stop thinking about her nipples stop thinking about her nipples stop—_

‘Uh, yeah,’ he says. ‘You do.’

She drops her hands.

‘Dude,’ she says. ‘You don’t get it. I’ve got boobs, and… other stuff, and I have _no_ idea what the fuck is going on.’

The light bulbs goes off right around then. Her speech pattern, the dark hair and blue eyes, the angular features; if she weren’t a girl, she’d be a dead ringer for—

‘Noct.’

His friend presses his lips together and gives a nod that says _No duh._

‘Oh,’ Prompto says. _‘Oh.’_

* * *

‘It’s not so bad, right? I mean… if we can’t fix you, Iris’s probably got some clothes that’ll fit you and—’

‘I swear to the Six, Prompto, if you tell Iris about _any_ of this I’m gonna kill you.’

Prompto dutifully shuts his mouth.

‘Oh man,’ Noct mutters. ‘What _happened_ last night? The last thing I remember is crawling into bed.’

Prompto chews his lip.

‘Me too,’ he says. ‘Maybe it’s like a… a status effect? Maybe it’ll wear off with time?’

Noct shoots him a look. Prompto decides he has to tread very, very carefully, because girl-Noct has a _bad_ temper.

‘I can go get Ignis,’ Prompto suggests. ‘He’ll know what to do.’

‘NO!’

Noct’s voice echoes through the room. It’s weird — he sounds just like himself, but girly. It’s totally uncanny.

‘I’m not telling anybody,’ Noct says stubbornly. ‘I’m just gonna wait in here until it blows over.’

The silence hangs heavy and humid over the room. Prompto chews his lip a little more doggedly.

‘What if… What if it doesn’t?’

The look in the prince’s — _princess’s?_ — eyes actually makes Prompto feel bad for him. As weird and totally hilarious as it had been at first, it’s gotta be confusing as hell for Noct.

‘Okay,’ Noct says. He paces from one length of the room to the other, pushing his hands through his hair as he goes. ‘Okay, we can figure this out.’

Prompto tries not to watch as Noct goes. He’s wearing underwear after all, yeah — but it’s just a little pair of boxer-briefs, and the way they hug his girl-ass is distracting.

‘Uh, dude,’ Prompto says flatly. ‘Could you like… put on some pants…?’

Noct stops pacing and looks at him blankly. After a beat, he glances down at himself.

‘Oh. Right.’

He’s blushing. It’s kind of cute.

While Noct showers, Prompto tries to Moogle some sort of a solution. There’s lots of stuff about status effects out there, filled in by hunters over the years, but there’s _nothing_ about getting turned into a girl. The closest thing he finds is an article about _Maiden’s Kiss_ being a cure for the frog ailment, but that’s… Well, it’s kind of the opposite of what’s going on here.

Prompto grabs a Remedy from the first-aid kit while he waits for Noct to get out. That cures pretty much everything, so it’s gotta work here — right?

Once Noct is dressed — his clothes hang all funny on him and his jeans are too tight on the thighs and ass, so he has to borrow a pair from Prompto — Prompto hands over the Remedy. As the prince twists open the stopper, Prompto says a silent prayer that it works.

Noct gulps down the contents of the small bottle. When it’s empty, he sticks his finger inside just to wipe out the last few drops. He _really_ wants to fix this, huh?

They wait. Remedies can take a little while to kick in, depending on the severity of the status effect. Noct once got hit with a petrification spell for so long that Gladio had worn tracks in the ground for all his pacing.

Still waiting. Prompto pulls out his phone and checks the time. Ten minutes.

‘I don’t know,’ he says quietly. ‘I’m not sure it’s working…’

‘It’s working,’ Noct says. His eyes are wild, like he’s going to find whoever’s responsible for this and get some payback. ‘It’s totally working.’

It’s not working. They give it another half hour for good measure, but there’s still no sign of anything changing; even if it’s taking a long time, there’d be _some_ sign of it by now.

When messages ding through on their phones — one for Noct from Ignis, asking where he is; the other for Prompto from Gladio, poking fun at him — Noct pushes a hand through his hair and blows out a sigh.

‘Am I like… stuck like this?’ he murmurs. ‘Forever?’

Prompto almost makes a quip about it not being such a bad thing — he makes for a hottie in girl-form, after all — but he thinks better of it when he sees the worry in Noct’s eyes. This isn’t the time for jokes, it’s the time for fixing things.

‘Okay,’ Prompto says. He sits upright where he’s perched across from Noct on Ignis and Gladio’s bed, and slaps his hands down on his knees. ‘It had to’ve happened last night, right? We must’ve done something while we were drunk. That’s the only explanation.’

Noct nods.

‘I guess. I don’t remember doing anything, though.’

Prompto doesn’t either, but saying as much feels like admitting defeat.

‘I got an idea,’ he says, springing to his feet. ‘Let’s retrace our steps.’

‘Uh, Prompto.’

When he looks at Noct, the prince is staring up at him in bemusement.

‘I can’t go out looking like this,’ Noct says.

‘Sure you can,’ Prompto replies cheerfully. ‘Gladio and Ignis had _no_ idea who you were. You’re totally incognito.’

Something about that seems to set off a lightbulb over Noct’s head. He jumps to his feet and goes off in search of his shoes — they don’t fit, so again Noct has to borrow some of Prompto’s.

They hit the bar first, although it’s shuttered for the day, so it’s a dead-end. Nothing outside seems to provide any sort of clues as to what might have happened. From there, they wander the streets. Prompto remembers whining about being hungry and dragging Noct off in search of something to eat, but the food stand doesn’t give them any luck, either.

‘We went back to the hotel after, right?’ Noct says glumly, kicking at the cobblestones under him. He already looks like he’s given up hope.

‘I think you wanted to look at the meteor first,’ Prompto says. ‘We got about halfway and then you said you felt sick.’

‘Right,’ Noct says. ‘And then we…’

‘And then we went home,’ Prompto says.

They both sigh. This has been a bust.

‘I think we should just tell the other guys, dude,’ Prompto says. ‘I mean… they’re gonna find out eventually…’

Noct’s shoulders slump.

‘Fine,’ he mutters. ‘But I wanna see how long it takes them to figure it out. Might as well have some fun if I’m gonna be stuck as a girl the rest of my life.’

‘A _hot_ girl,’ Prompto adds brightly.

They find the others wandering the market, already laden down with produce. Gladio spots them first, his eyes going round with surprise when he spots that Prompto’s date is still in tow.

‘Ah,’ Ignis says, as they sidle up. ‘Prompto. Prompto’s friend.’

He gives Prompto a pointed look; Prompto can only shrug.

‘I’m… Lucy,’ Noct says, with a stroke of inspiration. ‘Prompto told me all about you two! He said you’re travelling with Prince Noctis to bring him to his wedding day.’

Ignis shoots Prompto another steely look.

‘Apparently _Prompto_ has forgotten the meaning of discretion.’

‘Oh, it’s okay,’ Noct says sweetly. ‘It feels like I’ve known Prompto forever.’

Idly, he steps up to Gladio and stokes his arm, his fingers gliding seductively over the lines of his tattoo.

‘Lemme guess. You’re the prince’s guard, sworn to protect his life at all cost. So _dreamy.’_

Gladio looks conflicted. Prompto can’t say he blames him.

‘Where _is_ Noct, anyways?’ Gladio asks, looking between Ignis and Prompto. ‘Ain’t seen ‘im since we left the bar.’

Noct’s going for Gladio’s chest now, a convincing expression of awe on his face as he reaches out to one of his pecs. Patiently, Gladio pushes his hand away.

‘He didn’t respond to my message,’ Ignis says. With a frown, he slips his phone from his pocket and checks the screen. ‘I’m starting to get rather worried.’

He brings up his contacts with a swipe of his finger and lifts the phone to his ear.

After a moment, Noct’s phone rings from his pocket, with his distinctive ringtone blaring out.

‘I _knew_ it,’ Gladio says gruffly, swatting Noct away.

‘Did not,’ Noct says, with a self-satisfied smile. ‘I totally had you fooled.’

‘Peculiar,’ Ignis muses.

Prompto waves his hands in the air to get the others’ attention.

‘Uh, _guyssss._ Can we maybe focus on figuring out how this happened?’

Noct, at last, has stopped trying to crawl all over Gladio. If Prompto didn’t know better, he’d think the prince was starting to _like_ his new body.

‘Oh,’ Noct says. ‘Right.’

Four sets of eyes are only marginally better than two when it comes to searching for clues. Given that neither Gladio nor Ignis were _there_ when the others left the bar, they can’t fill in any of the blanks. It looks like they may just have to admit defeat on this one.

‘Hol’on,’ Gladio says, after they’ve made their third loop of the city without any luck. He reaches into his pocket, where his phone’s buzzing insistently at him. ‘It’s Iris. Be right back.’

Prompto watches as he lifts the phone to his ear and steps away to take the call.

And then it hits him.

‘Wait,’ he says. _‘Iris.’_

Noct looks at him morosely.

‘What about her?’

Prompto hops excitedly from one foot to the other. He’s _actually_ figured it out. Or at least, he hopes he has.

‘There was a flower stand,’ he says. ‘You kept saying how pretty they were and you wondered if they had any sylleblossoms.’

‘They didn’t,’ Noct says, nodding slowly as he remembers. ‘But they had those irises and I made a joke about—’

‘But they weren’t irises, dude,’ Prompto says. ‘They were lilies. Remember? You brushed up against them and all the pollen fell on your shirt. It’s a good thing you were wearing black.’

‘Hang on,’ Ignis interrupts. ‘You said _pollen?’_

Prompto nods.

‘We got into an argument about whether they were irises or not, but I _told_ him, they have those antler things with the pollen on them—’

‘Anthers,’ Ignis says without missing a beat. ‘Show me.’

They regroup with Gladio before heading out. He seems just as nonplussed as the others when Ignis approaches the flower stand and begins inspecting the blooms on show.

‘There,’ Noct says, pointing. ‘Irises.’

‘I’m telling you, dude, they’re _lilies—’_

‘Quiet.’

At the sharp bite of Ignis’s voice, they both shut up. He’s inspecting the flowers intently; he lifts his hand, and allows some of the pollen to brush onto his glove.

‘Curious,’ he says, rubbing his fingertips together. ‘It appears to resemble the saffron crocus, although it varies slightly in the petal structure…’

‘So it’s not a lily?’ Prompto says.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Ignis says distractedly. ‘Although it is a member of Iridaceae. Irises.’

Noct pumps his fist.

‘Ha-ha, _see?’_ he gloats. It’s not even a little less annoying while he’s a girl.

‘So what’s the plan?’ Gladio says. ‘We find the seller and we lay the smackdown on ‘em till they give us a cure?’

Ignis straightens up and turns to the others. Carefully, he withdraws a tissue from his pocket and uses it to wipe his glove clean.

‘A more subtle approach may yield better results,’ he says. ‘Besides, there are all manner of strange and exotic plants to be found in Lucis. One mustn’t confuse ignorance with malice.’

He looks around thoughtfully and brings his hand up as if to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. At the last second, he seems to decide against it.

‘Highness,’ he says, turning to Noct. ‘While I’d rather not assume nefarious motives, I’d still like to take some precautions. You and Prompto should remain at the hotel until we know more.’

Noct shrugs.

‘Whatever. My back’s killing me anyways. How do chicks run around all day with these things?’

* * *

They’ve had the AC blasting since they got in — apparently girl-Noct runs even hotter than regular-Noct.

‘I’m so _bored,’_ Prompto groans. ‘The guys have been gone for like an _hour.’_

He flops back on the bed and stretches his arms out above him, shutting his eyes.

‘I’m gonna.’

The other bed creaks. When Prompto lazily opens one eye, Noct is walking awkwardly toward the bathroom.

‘Be right back,’ Noct says tersely, before shut himself in.

He’s gone _awhile._ Prompto guesses he’s trying to figure out how to pee or something with his new equipment; he wonders if he should knock on the door and offer some moral support.

When ten minutes go by, he’s starting to get worried — but then Noct emerges and scurries across the room to his seat. His cheeks are bright red, Prompto can’t help but notice.

‘Everything cool, dude?’ Prompto asks.

‘Yep.’

The silence that follows is a little awkward. Prompto tries to fill it by humming to himself, but he gets bored after a little while. Eventually he sits up with a huff.

 _‘King’s Knight?’_ he suggests. ‘You can still… do that, right?’

Noct shoots him a look.

‘I’m a girl, Prompto, not an alien.’

They play for a little while, but Noct won’t stop _fidgeting_ and it’s starting to get on Prompto’s nerves. When he makes a sloppy mistake because he’s so distracted, he shuts off the game and tosses his phone aside.

‘C’mon, guys,’ he mutters under his breath.

Maybe it’s just him, but Noct being a girl is kind of… weird. Not just oh-haha-dude-you’ve-got-boobs-now-that’s-funny weird but… oh-hey-you’re-actually-kind-of-cute weird. For one thing, Noct keeps distractedly touching a hand to his neck, and that draws Prompto’s eyes to it every time.

And then, yeah, there’s the boobs. The room is unbearably hot even with the AC, and Prompto’s tank is clinging to him — and Noct’s tee is doing pretty much the same thing, only it clings to his tits and brings out the tiny curve of his waist.

Noct looks up and meets his eye. Flushing, Prompto glances away.

Yeah, this is definitely weird.

‘So, uh,’ he says, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. ‘What’s it like, being a girl?’

‘It sucks.’

Prompto shoots Noct a quizzical look.

‘Really?’ he says.

Noct shrugs.

‘Yeah.’

He stands up and shakes his arms out. He swings them at his sides as he walks about, like he’s still getting the hang of his new body.

‘There’s boob sweat,’ Noct says. ‘And I wasn’t kidding when I said my back hurt. And… I don’t know, everything just feels _weird._ Like, I keep bumping my chest off stuff because I forget it’s there, and everything’s so _sensitive—’_

‘Sensitive?’ Prompto echoes, perking up.

‘Yeah,’ Noct mutters. ‘Sensitive. Just my t-shirt rubbing off my nipples is killing me.’

Prompto snorts, although he quickly stifles it after a dark glance from the prince.

Noct stops his pacing and pushes a hand through his hair. His shoulders slump; even as girl-Noct, it’s pretty obvious there’s something on his mind.

‘And I’m like…’ Noct says. ‘Super… worked up.’

He doesn’t need to fill in the blanks; Prompto feels heat rush to his cheeks as he realises what his friend is getting at.

‘Ohhhhh,’ Prompto says, slowly. _‘Oh.’_

Noct’s fidgeting again. He wanders around the bed and over to the window, where he leans against the balconette.

‘Can’t you just like… take care of it?’ Prompto says.

He watches Noct’s back where he stands. His shoulders are a little more slight, the shape of his waist more pronounced. His hips are wider, and his ass is… well, it’s nice.

Prompto’s very aware of his own skin all of a sudden.

‘I tried,’ Noct says. ‘But I couldn’t.’

Prompto sucks on his bottom lip while he thinks.

‘You could ask Gladio?’

Noct whips around.

‘What?’ he blurts. ‘No _way.’_

‘Why not?’ Prompto says. ‘He knows what he’s doing.’

Noct wraps his arms around himself and looks down at his shoes.

‘Cause it’d be weird,’ he mumbles. ‘And he’d never let it go. And I could never look him in the eye again.’

‘Sorry,’ Prompto says. ‘Sucks, dude.’

Noct’s very quiet, still staring at his feet. After a long, long while he finally drags his glance upwards.

‘I mean…’ he says, not quite meeting Prompto’s eye. _‘You_ could always help me out.’

Prompto’s stomach flips.

_Oh._


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto realises, dimly, that his ears are ringing.

‘Wait,’ he says slowly. ‘You want me… to… with you…?’

‘No, ‘course not,’ Noct says with a painfully forced laugh. ‘That’d be dumb, right?’

He still can’t seem to bring himself to look Prompto in the eye.

So, when Noct went into the bathroom,  _ that’s _ what he was doing. Right there, just a few feet away. 

‘I mean,’ he finds himself saying, like somebody else has taken over control of his voice. ‘What would I do?’

Noct shrugs. He moves to the bed and flops down onto it, arms shrouded around him like a shield.

‘I dunno,’ he mumbles. ‘Be good practice for if you ever make it with Cindy, though, right?’

Noct chases his words up with a nervous laugh like it’s all some big joke. The more time stretches on, it’s dawning on Prompto that it really isn’t.

It’s also hitting him just about now that he’s not thinking about  _ Cindy; _ hasn’t for quite a while. He’s thinking about the way his own jeans hug Noct’s thighs, and what it’d feel like to tug them down, to push his legs apart and— 

A current winds through him, down his spine, down between his legs. Playing casual, he shifts forward and drapes his arm across his lap where he sits in an effort to hide… things.

‘Wouldn’t that be, like…’

He trails off, chewing his lip.

‘Wouldn’t it be weird?’ he finishes.

Heat’s creeping up Noct’s cheeks, a pretty shake of pink. He’s just a little away from Prompto, so he edges his foot over and uses it to tap Prompto’s.

‘I trust you,’ he says. ‘I know you’re not gonna be a dick about it.’

Prompto toys with the loose threads on the rip at the knee of his jeans, his glance trained downwards. Even if they  _ think _ it’s not going to be weird, it probably will… Right? 

The thing is, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like this has to mean anything.

A hand — smaller and more delicate than he’s expecting, with the same worn-down nails he remembers — reaches out and touches his knee through the tear in his jeans, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

‘You don’t have to, dude,’ Noct says. ‘I just figured… out of everybody, I’d want it to be you.’

Prompto shuffles his feet; gently lines the toes of his shoes up with Noct’s.

‘No,’ he says quietly. ‘I want to do it.’

Of course, now that he’s agreed to it, the  _ getting there _ is the hard part.

For a little while they both sit there across from each other, without saying a word. The tension is so unbearable that Prompto can feel a nervous laugh threatening to burst out. Somehow he manages to rein it in.

‘Should we…’

When he looks up, Noct’s leaning forward a little where he sits. His fingers are still touching Prompto’s knee.

“Should we get right to it or…”

Prompto smiles despite himself. At least Noct’s as nervous as he is, so he doesn’t feel like a  _ total _ loser. 

‘Nah, I mean,’ Prompto says, with what he hopes is a casual shrug. ‘Gotta do all that foreplay stuff first. Kissing. And junk.’

Noct nods, eyes a little wide. Prompto doesn’t know if it makes it better or worse that he’s so  _ cute _ as a girl.

Noct is the first to move, standing up and sitting at Prompto’s side. He leaves a little distance between them, his hand  _ just _ next to Prompto’s. It inches closer, and closer, and then their pinkies are touching, like they’re about to swear on something.

_ I won’t tell, if you won’t. _

Noct’s hand is warm and a little clammy as he covers Prompto’s, not that Prompto can say anything. He’s so nervous he feels like he could puke.

And then Noct threads their fingers together, and it feels…  _ right. _

Prompto lifts his glance to meet Noct’s, and his friend is leaning in, his lips parted slightly. They’re a little fuller than usual, a pretty pink, and Prompto knows with sudden inevitability that they’re about to meet his own.

They’re a little chapped, and they’re cooler than Prompto’s expecting, but that first tentative brush seems to send electricity arcing between them. This isn’t Prompto’s first kiss — he gave that one up as a teenager — but it might as well be for how timid, how shy, how completely out of his depth he feels.

Noct slips his other hand up and brushes Prompto’s hair out of his face. Noct’s  _ cupping his cheek, _ Prompto realises, right about the moment that Noct’s tongue darts out against his lips.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

It sends a spark through Prompto, and before he knows it he’s parting his lips to let Noct’s tongue in, flitting his own out to meet it. They do this experimentally for a little while — Prompto’s pretty sure his semi’s an all-out boner now, from the way it aches, trapped in his jeans — before Prompto gains some courage and decides to take the initiative.

He breaks from the kiss — a little reluctantly, if he’s honest, although he figures it’ll be worth it — and moves, lowering himself to the ground. Noct watches with a question on his lips as Prompto kneels and moves closer, one hand still holding Noct’s, the other on his knee.

“I could…”

Prompto gently nudges Noct’s leg to the side; it goes without resistance. 

“Try it like this…”

He touches a kiss to the inside of Noct’s thigh. When he glances up, his friend’s watching him, his lips parted a little. He follows it up with another, and another, and the closer he gets to the juncture of Noct’s thighs, the more the prince seems to spool up beneath his touch.

Prompto slides his hands up over the denim covering Noct’s legs as he goes, and when he gets to the top, he darts his tongue out, running it up over the seam over his fly.

Noct makes a tiny, breathless sort of sound. When Prompto looks up at him, his eyes are closed.

It’s kind of hot, watching him sit like that, his cheeks all pink in anticipation.

Prompto braces himself on Noct’s thighs and pushes himself up, touching his lips to Noct’s. His hand wanders over to Noct’s fly and toys with the tap on his zipper; Noct practically jumps from the contact, his eyes going wide.

“You wanna take these off?” Prompto teases. “They’re kinda in the way…”

Swallowing, Noct nods. He leans back a little and props himself up, lifting his hips for Prompto.

It’s a weird sensation, slipping Noct out of his jeans like this. He’s done it before, when Noct had been too drunk to do it himself, but that had been different. They’d both been giggling the whole time, and even Prompto had been tipsy enough to fall flat on his butt.

They’re both quiet now, so still the sound of a pin dropping would be ear-shattering. The hum of the AC cycling on and off is just a distant distraction: white noise.

Prompto eases Noct’s jeans down past his hips, exposing a little more of those pale, shapely thighs as he goes. He can see Noct’s chest heaving now, can see his nipples poking out through his t-shirt. He wonders what it’d be like to play with them, to take a handful of his perky breasts… Another jump of his dick, and he remembers what he’s down here to do.

Noct kicks off his shoes once Prompto gets near the bottom, and has to help Prompto get the jeans off the last of the way. He’s just in a tee and boxer-briefs now, his legs a little apart, his hair casting his face in shadow as he looks down at Prompto.

Prompto sits up and smooths his hands up Noct’s thighs, hooking his fingers tentatively into the band of his underwear.

‘Can I…?’

Noct wets his lips. Slowly, he nods.

This part… This part is half-terrifying, and half-exhilarating. It’s the point of no return — once Prompto’s seen what’s under there, there’s no going back — and as scary as it is, his hearts hammering around all crazy in excitement.

When Noct lifts his hips again, Prompto tugs the underwear down like he’s teasing it out, like he’s making the most of it. He hears Noct huff out a shaky breath and when he looks up, his eyes are closed.

Prompto sees a little thatch of jet black hair, the same shade as on Noct’s head, but it sits in curls that look impossibly soft. As he guides Noct’s underwear downwards, he sees the outline of his sex, caressed between his thighs.

He swallows. He’s got Noct’s boxer-briefs down around his knees when he realises that  _ Noct _ isn’t the one shaking,  _ he _ is.

He lets the underwear drop to the floor, and Noct steps out of the daintily. Then he pushes his legs apart and… 

_ Oh, gods. _

He’s dripping wet. Prompto can see it, glistening in the light against the pink of Noct’s folds. Prompto leans forward, and he hesitates, and it’s only when Noct gently threads his fingers through his hair that he works up the courage to continue.

He’s never done this before.  _ Watched _ it being done, so to speak, so he knows the basic technique. It’s still a different thing to tackle in the flesh. Tentatively, Prompto darts his tongue out and dips it between Noct’s lips.

The  _ taste. _ It’s sweet and salty all at once, not like Prompto was expecting. It’s  _ good. _ He gives another experimental lick, and this time Noct gives a groan under his touch, and wetness practically floods onto Prompto’s tongue.

He laps at Noct, roaming between his lips, until Noct gives a gentle tug of his hair.

‘Would you, uh…’ He’s flushed, his eyes all loopy looking. ‘Would you put your fingers in me?’

Prompto’s head goes all woozy. He’s picturing what that would even  _ feel _ like when Noct nibbles his bottom lip and cocks his head to the side.

‘Please?’

Prompto’s erection gives a throb at the sound of Noct’s voice, as if to remind him it’s there. With one hand, he pops his belt open and fumbles with his fly, shoving his fingers under the band of his briefs; with the other, he slips it up between Noct’s thighs and teases around his opening.

Noct feels so  _ eager _ as he eases his fingers in. When he feels Noct ripple around him, his cock throbs under his touch.

This is better than porn. Best friend or not, this one will stay with Prompto for a  _ while. _

He flicks his tongue up over Noct’s clit and feels Noct twitch in response. When he does it again, Noct practically jumps.

‘Hol’on,’ Noct breathes. ‘A little slower.’

Prompto feels heat rush to his cheeks. They both know this is his first time doing this, but still, it’s embarrassing to get it wrong. Still, he adjusts his pace, and he knows he’s got it right when he laps slowly up against Noct and his friend gives a long, low moan in turn.

‘You can move your fingers,’ Noct whispers. ‘Like you’re fucking me.’

A moan escapes Prompto’s lips, muffled against Noct. Great, now he’s thinking about  _ fucking _ him.

Wait. Is that something they could do?

That has him gripping his dick, tugging it with hurried strokes and he holds the image of easing himself between Noct’s thighs as he works.

He moves his fingers, working them in and out; relishes the slick sound of them, of his tongue between Noct’s lips, feels a frenzied sort of heat come over him as he realises he’s definitely,  _ definitely _ going to come if he’s not careful.

He squeezes his hand down further and grips tight around himself to stave it off. An impatient tug at his hair has him looking up, and he realises dimly that he must’ve stopped touching Noct too.

‘Sorry,’ he says, with a shy smile. ‘Kinda… still figuring this out.’

Noct pushes himself up and gives a nod toward the head of the bed.

‘Be a little easier up there?’

They move — Noct lays himself out flat on his back, his t-shirt still clinging to him like his last shred of modesty, and Prompto hurriedly shoves his jeans down his thighs before climbing between his legs. At least Prompto can lie down like this and give his knees a break, and it’s easier to watch Noct’s face to gauge how he’s doing.

When he leans in again, he does it teasingly, tracing his tongue up the inside of Noct’s thigh. Prompto can taste the slickness where it’s trickled down Noct’s leg. Hungrily, he laps at it and grinds the heel of his hand into his dick.

‘Prompto,’ Noct moans, and his fingers tug all needily at Prompto’s hair.

Crawling upward, Prompto dips his tongue into the wetness between Noct’s thighs. The taste floods his mouth again and he groans, practically humping his hand where it’s pinned against the bed. He doesn’t need to be asked this time — he guides his other hand up and slips his fingers in, and works them rhythmically in and out.

He knows he’s doing good when he feels Noct writhe against him, when he hears his breath huff out in a little whimper. When he laps his tongue over Noct’s clit, slowly and sensually like Noct told him, Prompto coaxes another moan out of him.

It’s harder work than he’d ever thought it’d be. Whenever he thinks he’s got a rhythm going, he seems to mess up and Noct twitches uncomfortably underneath him. His friend’s gentle as he guides him through it, though, and Prompto couldn’t ask for a better teacher.

‘Yeah,’ Noct groans. ‘Like that…’

Prompto’s skin prickles. Hearing Noct like this makes him want to get off so  _ bad; _ he fists over his cock, slick and fast, hardly caring for what a mess he must be making of his underwear.

Slowly, steadily, Noct’s moans get a little more urgent, a little less restrained. His hips buck under Prompto’s touch, his legs trembling, and when Prompto glances up he can see the prince’s head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth slack.

‘Nnnghh,’ Prompto whines, muffled between Noct’s thighs; he feels the fingers threaded through his hair grasp tighter, and he’d probably think it was painful if the whole thing weren’t so damn hot.

He feels a pull, low in his belly; can’t help but chase it, swept up in the tide.

There’s a jingling sound right outside the door — the click of keys slotting into the lock. He has enough sense left in him to realise that it’s the guys, back from their recon, and enough to yank his hand out from his briefs.

When he moves to pull away, though, Noct only tugs more urgently at his hair, his voice coming out a frantic whisper:  _ ‘Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop—’ _

So he doesn’t, and even as the door clicks open and Gladio’s gravelly voice drifts into the room, Prompto can feel Noct’s hips bucking underneath him, can hear the desperate whimper that sounds from his lips just as Gladio’s voice cuts off and the door promptly shuts.

It’s like the world has ceased to exist to Noct; like everything and everyone in existence has been obliterated as he writhes and rides out his orgasm.

Steadily, as the moans die down, the room seems eerily quiet, even with the AC chugging along. When Prompto finally wills himself to look up, the room is empty — the others must have made a quick exit.

‘Was that—?’ Noct says, cutting off as he glances toward the door. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded.

Prompto nods.

‘Yeah,’ he says meekly. ‘It was.’

* * *

They’d gotten a text while they were cleaning up — from Ignis, short and to the point.

_ \- Meet in the lobby when you’re ready. _

It’s impossible to know from the tone of the text what — if anything — he or Gladio saw. Prompto has a nagging suspicion that ‘enough’ would just about cover it.

Prompto’s waiting for the inevitable jeers as he walks, behind Noct, down the stairs of the Leville. He can see Ignis and Gladiolus talking near the entrance, and Gladio’s grinning. Whatever he’s grinning  _ about, _ Prompto’s cheeks burn and he makes a special effort not to meet anybody’s eye as they descend to the lobby.

‘Any luck?’ Noct asks. He’s acting, somehow, like nothing happened.

‘Tracked the guy down,’ Gladio says. From his minimal view of the floor, Prompto watches his feet shuffle slightly, weight shifting onto one hip. ‘He couldn’t tell us a whole lot. Offered to loosen up his tongue for ‘im, but your esteemed advisor  _ advised _ against it.’

‘As it transpires, he appears to have procured the flower in question under the belief that it was merely a harmless saffron crocus, so we had to look elsewhere for answers.’

‘So… can you fix it?’ Noct asks.

He’s so close Prompto could reach out and take his hand if he wanted to.

‘Not… quite,’ Ignis says. ‘However, Gladio had the bright idea of contacting Dr. Yeagre. It appears she has a passing knowledge of botany, and is familiar with the properties of the flower in question.’

Noct shifts, bumping Prompto’s arm slightly with his own. An accident, but Prompto’s skin tingles where Noct made contact.

‘And?’

_ ‘And,’ _ Ignis says, with an impatient sigh, ‘the effects generally wear off between twenty-four to seventy-two hours of exposure, depending on the intensity of the dose. As you only had glancing contact with the pollen, I’d wager we’re looking at the shorter end of that.’

‘So, that’s… good news?’ Prompto says timidly, finally daring himself to look up at Ignis.

‘For some of us, anyways,’ Gladio says. His grin says it all.

Ignis gives a polite cough.

‘The pollen has not been studied at great length, so we have no idea if there are any other effects we may not know of. I’d advise we remain in Lestallum until it wears off, and proceed from there.’

Noct nods.

‘Right. Stuck in sweaty hell for twenty-four to seventy-two hours. Awesome.’

‘Actually,’ Ignis says, ‘you may see a return to normal overnight. It was last night that you came into contact with the pollen, after all.’

‘We were gonna hit up the food stands for some eats,’ Gladio says, nodding his head toward the door. At least he’s not wearing that knowing grin any more. ‘You comin’?’

Noct nods.

‘Sure.’

Lestallum feels like a painful change of pace after everything that happened up in the room. As Prompto steps out of the hotel, lagging behind the others, he feels like he’s on another plane.

‘So what was it like?’

Gladio’s got that grin plastered over his face again as he slings an arm around Noct’s shoulders. The prince sags a little under the weight of him.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Noct says.

Prompto doesn’t know how Noct can act like everything’s normal. He keeps replaying it in his mind — Noct’s moans, the taste of him. A prickling sensation winds up Prompto’s neck, and he finds himself falling farther and farther behind the others.

Noct notices first.

‘You okay?’ he asks, shrugging Gladio’s arm off of him as he turns to look back.

Prompto draws to a halt and chews his lip.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I’m fine.’

He watches the worry ripple across his friend’s face. Even as a girl, Noct’s expressions are as transparent to him as his own.

‘Guys,’ Noct says. ‘Hold up.’

The others stop, and they’re  _ looking  _ at Prompto now and his cheeks are red-hot.

‘Not feeling too good,’ Noct says. ‘I think I’m just gonna sleep it off.’

Ignis steps toward the prince, ever the loyal advisor.

‘A side-effect of the flower? Would you like me to—’

‘No,’ Noct interjects. ‘It’s fine. I got Prompto.’

Prompto isn’t sure if he imagines the look the passes between Gladiolus and Ignis, but his stomach squirms uncomfortably either way.

‘Certainly, Highness,’ Ignis says, with a nod.

Noct turns toward Prompto. With his back to the others, he flashes a reassuring smile, and Prompto feels relief flood through him.

It doesn’t last long.

‘Gentlemen,’ Ignis says breezily. ‘Do be careful. We don’t know that any unintended side effects won’t linger after the condition has resolved itself…’

Gladio’s deep laughter follows them as they meekly make their way back to the hotel. On the plus side, Prompto isn’t the only one blushing any more.

‘Kill me now,’ Prompto says, as he flops onto the bed back in the room. ‘We’re not bouncing back from this.’

Noct sits nearby, the mattress dipping underneath him.

‘They’ll get over it. Besides, the first time Iggy got frogged, Gladio was the one who said we should try kissing him.’

In spite of himself, Prompto snorts. He remembers how close Gladio’s lips had been to Ignis’s slimy frog body before they’d finally gotten through to Sania and she’d told them what to do. They might complain about all the errands she sends them on, but she pulls through when they need her.

‘He should’ve known it wouldn’t’ve worked, anyways,’ Prompto says, rolling onto his side. ‘It’s supposed to be a  _ maiden’s _ kiss, like in the fairytales. Gladio’s like the furthest thing from a maiden.’

Noct flashes a smile, but it fades quickly.

‘We’re cool, right?’ he says.

An awkward laugh bursts out of Prompto’s mouth. Noct’s asking  _ him _ if they’re cool?

‘Are you serious?’ he says. ‘I’m like… I’m the one who was…’

It’s just a little bit too weird to finish that particular thought. Trailing off, Prompto looks down at his hands where he wrings them in his lap.

When Noct touches his thigh, it almost makes him jump out of his skin.

‘You got me off, dude,’ Noct says, with a shaky little laugh. ‘That’s… that’s on me.’

When Prompto weighs it up, he guesses Noct’s got a point. It’s not like he has a problem with it, though — he’d been having fun, too.

‘So hey,’ Noct says. His fingertips knead into Prompto’s leg. ‘You never got there, huh?’

Prompto shivers under his friend’s touch, his eyes fluttering shut. He’d been so close, too.

‘No,’ he murmurs.

The bed creaks under Noct’s weight. His hand slips up Prompto’s thigh, warm and sure.

‘Y’know,’ Noct says. ‘I could help you out with that.’

At first, Prompto thinks he’s joking — but when he opens his eyes, Noct’s looking at him with his head cocked, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.

Prompto’s dick throbs. Before he knows it, he’s slipping his arms around Noct and pulling him into a kiss.

This time, at least, the others know better than to interrupt. 

**Author's Note:**

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